Be Gentle With Me
by changenotcoins
Summary: Angel's death caused him to shatter into a million pieces he can't put back together. Her return will shake him to his core, and he may begin to piece himself back together. Or he may just break even more. AngelCollins.
1. Prologue

**AN: This one is the hardest thing I have ever had to write; an emotional rollercoaster that was inspired by recent events on **_**Grey's Anatomy**_**. The title is the name of song by The Boy Least Likely To, and it has absolutely nothing to do with the story. It's unbelievably happy, and this story is not, so just disregard it. I just like the way it sounds. :)**

He had watched as the one he loved began to change, once a person with beauty unmatched, then beginning to succumb to the disease that ran through her veins. He had watched helplessly as she had gone through the agonizing pain the vicious disease had inflicted on her, feeling out of control as he witnessed her happiness fade. He had watched as she struggled to be who she had been, wanting desperately to turn back time, trying to fight for his sake. He had watched as each treatment failed them both, knowing but never caring to face the truth that time was limited. He had watched as the heart monitor flatlined, stripping him of the most precious thing he had ever beheld. He had watched as she was lowered into the ground, six feet deep in the earth as well as his heart.

He knew it was near impossible to move on, but he'd be damned if this heartbreak were to beat him.

And yet, he had become the person he had sworn he never would be in the midst of his lover's death. He had dealt with death and sorrow before, but nothing of this magnitude. He had lost the one person that made him whole, filling him in ways no one else ever could.

He positively ached for her touch and to make love to her. He longed to see the enrapturing eyes which were so hard to avoid. He needed to hear that voice, see that smile. He just wanted her to be by his side again.

But nothing would ever make that reality.


	2. Chapter 1

**AN: Happy holidays, everybody. :)**

He was so sick of feeling alone. But in the months following Angel's death, he had found a friend among his liquor cabinet. It wasn't the human contact he craved, but when the liquid hit his lips, the sorrows were drowned and he felt satisfied if only for awhile. It made the pain subside in ways nothing else could, and each night he'd point the bottle to the sky in anger and hurt, drinking himself to Angel. Tonight was to be no exception. He felt himself slipping into oblivion, a place he'd come to appreciate. Before he could steady himself, the empty Jack Daniel's bottle rolled out of his grasp, hitting the floor with a deafening thud, and everything went black.

* * *

_It's been a year. A long, cold year without her._

He could hear faint voices whispering.

"Collins." the voice called out. He recognized it, but it seemed so far away. "Collins, wake up."

He could feel the palm of the person's hand slide across his face, and his eyes fluttered open. His vision was blurry, but he could make out one with glasses, the other with long hair. Mark and Roger.

"Are you okay?" Mark asked, his voice dripping with concern.

"Collins, what the hell happened?" Roger questioned, picking the lone bottle up from the floor and turned it over to read the label. He sighed heavily and closed his eyes in frustration. "You've been drinking again, haven't you?"

Collins groaned inwardly, and struggled to pull himself up. He felt as if his head were about to explode, and he didn't have the patience for the lecture he knew was coming from his friends. "I don't have time for this."

Roger scoffed. "Yes, you do. You have all the time in the world now, but you choose to fill it with booze and sleep, isolating yourself from everyone who loves you. All you do is mope around and frankly, I'm sick of it."

Collins could feel his temper rising at the accusations his best friend had spoken of. "You're one to talk. You became Mr. Angsty the moment April died, so you don't get to tell _me_ what I'm doing wrong."

"That was completely different, and you know it! I'm not _killing_ myself," Roger said, tossing the bottle angrily at Collins. "Because that's what you're doing, you know. And I'm not going to sit idly by and watch you destroy yourself."

Collins clenched his fists as a lone tear slid down his cheek. "You don't get it, do you?" his voice rose. "I wish I _had_ died! I wish it was me instead of her. And because it can't be, I'm just trying to _survive_."

"This is what you call survival? Fuck, Collins, do you think it's your funeral I want to go to next?"

"Does it really matter? I'm going to die anyways from the virus. I might as well speed the process up so I can just be through with all of this."

"If Angel could _see_ you, Collins..." Roger shook his head in dismay.

"Well, she can't, can she? She's gone! And she's not coming back." he said, turning away from Roger's eyes.

"You know she wouldn't want you to be doing this. She'd want you to live for her, but you just want to throw it all away," Roger said quietly. "Look, I can't tell you what to do. You need help, but you don't want _my_ help. I can't keep trying to help you because there's only so many times I'm willing to try before I get fed up with the pushing away. I'm sorry, Collins, that she had to go. I _know _how much that hurts. Believe me, I do. But this isn't who you are and I refuse to believe that this is what you _want_. Until you can come to terms with your life, I'm done with you. I can't do this anymore."

Collins lifted his head and watched as Roger walked away from him. He'd blown it, and he felt his heart sink. He'd lost the next most important person to him, and it was his fault.

"Collins..." Mark whispered, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Just give him time. He just hates seeing you like this. We all do."

When Collins didn't answer, instead choosing to bow his head in shame, Mark squeezed his shoulder in reassurance. "I know you might not like to hear this, but it's been a year. I think you should go visit the gravesite, Collins. You owe her at least that much."

* * *

As much as it pained him to admit it, Mark had been right.

He just hated being here, haunted by every single memory they ever shared. It reminded him that he wouldn't ever get her back, his reason for being so adamant on staying away. He closed his eyes as he felt a breeze come over him, and for just a moment he could swear she was there.

_I love you, Collins. _

_I know you do._

_I miss you. _

_It's not the same without you._

_Please come back to me._

Her words washed over him, and he desperately wished this was real. He was afraid to open his eyes, afraid his only connection to her would be lost. He could feel her presence so close to him, warm breath combatting the cold air as it tingled his skin.

"Open your eyes."

He slowly opened his eyes, trying to hold onto the moment. He saw a shadow behind him out of the corner of his eye, and he turned. His eyes widened, and he stumbled backwards. "Angel?"


	3. Chapter 2

**AN: Sorry for the delay, but I've had some health issues and I've just had to take some time to get used to the changes it has caused, and I was working on another piece. But enough about me. Here's the next chapter. :)**

She smiled. Fuck, how he'd missed that smile. It widened even more as she broke out into laughter at the sight of him lying helplessly on the ground, scared shitless by her unwarranted appearance.

"It's _not_ funny," he managed to choke out as he struggled to pull himself up, in awe of her presence. This all had to be a dream; he was just imagining her here because it was a coincidence. A year after her death, standing at her grave... it was just some sort trick his mind was playing on him. But then why did she seem so real?

"It's hilarious, actually." she responded. She stopped laughing for just a moment and stared down at him with her sad brown eyes.

He looked back up at her, longing to alleviate the pain she was feeling as well as his own. "How... how are you here? You're supposed to be..." he trailed off, not wanting to say the word he knew was next.

"Yeah, I know," she said softly. "And I still am."

He looked away and then looked back again, just to make sure he wasn't hallucinating. As he looked at her more clearly this time, he saw that she had on the same outfit as the night they had met. It was the clothes he had buried her in.

"Collins..." she whispered as he stared at her with an intense fire in his eyes. "I know this is all incredibly hard to understand. Believe me, even I'm confused. But this is real."

He shook his head in frustration and looked up at the sky, as if seeking divine guidance. _Why are doing this to me, God? I know I haven't exactly been a saint, but do I really deserve this? To be messed with? I was finally starting to move on and now you bring her back._

"I don't believe this, Angel." he griped. "I watched you _die_. I stood by your side as your health diminished. I held you in my arms as you took your last breath. I cried a river of tears as I lowered you into the ground. You can't stand here and tell me this isn't some sort of dream, because - "

"Touch me." she cut in, her voice barely rising above a whisper. She held her hand out, waiting for him to return her gesture. He eyed her hand as if it were something radioactive and sucked in a breath. It wasn't that he was scared to touch her; he just didn't know if he could again and be able to keep his emotions under control in front of her.

But he realized this time he couldn't resist. Here she was was, and even though it all seemed like something out of the movies, he knew that he couldn't pass up the opportunity to hold her again. Even just for a brief period of time.

He extended his hand so slowly at first that Angel thought she had imagined him moving altogether. But when she felt that spark as his hand clasped hers, she knew he had. His hand was trembling and his palm was cold and clammy against hers, but she didn't mind.

And suddenly they went from a touch of the hand to Collins pulling her closer and embracing her unlike he had before. This time, he was holding her as close as possible, which to him wasn't nearly enough, and grasping onto her like he never wanted to let go. He closed his eyes and let the tears fall onto her shoulder, taking her in.

She felt the moisture of his tears hit her shoulder and she shed her own as well. He pulled back slightly and looked at her with those big, brown eyes she had longed to see. "I'm sorry, Angel." he choked out. "I'm so sorry."

"I know," she breathed. She took his face in her hands and rested her forehead against hers."I love you."

"I love you too." he said softly, and let his lips capture hers. It was the most genuine, light kiss they had ever shared but it meant more to them than any other kiss had.

**Next chapter: Collins and Angel begin to explore this new found relationship, but it all comes crashing down when Roger and Mark get wind of it.**


	4. Chapter 3

**WARNING: MATURE CONTENT**

He just wanted to do this with her again.

The same dance with the same steps and the same music to move to. He wanted to make love to her while he still had the chance because he wasn't sure any of this was reality but if it was, he wanted to show her the depths of his love and yearning in her absence. He wanted her to know how much pain she had caused him by leaving. He wanted her to know how lost he had felt without her by his side. He wanted to look into those burnished eyes again, to feel her skin against his fingertips, her sensual lips pressed to his own as they conveyed the emotions they couldn't possibly put into words.

But most of all he wanted to tell her _I love you_.

The three words he had taken for granted so many times before. He had used them so many times in passing, whether in casual conversation, after a passionate night or even after a heated argument he had to defend his love. He could never fathom how much simple words meant until his reason to voice them was taken from him. Angel's life had been stripped away from him before he really had the fortuity to tell her how much she meant to him.

One more time before heaven turned to hell.

His breath was shallow as he gazed at her form. Drinking in her beauty was far better than all the alcohol he'd consumed in her absence. He pulled her to him and whispered sweet nothings into her ear. He knew that she could feel his warm breath on her skin by the way she shuddered in his embrace and his mind struggled to comprehend how it could be real.

She must have seen his contemplation etched into his features because she let him go slightly, eyes burning with intensity. "For the last part of the year we were together, I had to live by the choices of my doctors. The men and women who cared for me deciding my life and there wasn't one choice that was purely mine. And now here I am in your arms, the only place I ever truly wanted to be and I get to choose for myself. I know that this is so hard to understand, but we never got the chance we deserved with each other and now here we are. So listen close," she whispered. "What I choose is you. You're the one I want to be with. I always wanted you and always will."

His lips felt like they were on fire as they met hers again, ignited by the flame of their undying love. He pushed all thoughts of misgivings out of his mind and just lost himself in Angel.

His hands entwined with hers at her waist as he kissed her gently. He wanted to take this slow with her because he wanted it to last. Unlike all the times they had made love before, this was different. Their circumstances had drastically changed and for whatever reason his angel was on earth again. He'd never take what he had had for granted again.

Angel's hand had slipped from his and cupped his cheek, the other sliding beneath his shirt. She used her deft fingers to pull it up and over his head, only breaking the kiss for a fleeting moment. He returned the gesture and soon their upper bodies were only skin on skin. He relished the contact but it wasn't enough.

He wasn't sure if it ever would be.

Both sets of pants were soon piled on the floor and Collins guided Angel to the bedroom they had once shared. He lowered her onto the bed with a carefulness she adored. He had always taken care of her even when it broke his heart. Just another one of the many reasons she loved him.

His lips left hers and made their way down the curves of her body, kissing every inch he could possibly reach. He pulled off the last vestiges of her clothing and ravished the body part that had been kept hidden from him. He could feel Angel's fingertips dig into the nape of his neck and he smiled against her.

He'd missed this so much.

When he thought she couldn't take anymore, he let her strip him of his undergarments. His brown eyes interrogated hers as he silently received permission, her arms wrapped tightly around his muscled shoulders.

He pushed into her slowly, letting her adjust and accommodate to him. He was tentative at first but when she lifted her hips against his own, begging and pleading for more, he increased his pace. Eyes rolled back and fingers gripped tighter as their actions in the throngs of passion elicited moans and words heard many times before.

One last push accompanied by the sounds of pleasure from both pushed them over the edge. Collins collapsed on top of his lover, struggling to regain the breath he had lost. Her body instantly molded with his as she curled herself around him. His placed his lips onto the crown of her head and whispered, "I love you."

At his words her face lit up with a grin that stretched from ear to ear making her look even more beautiful than he had ever imagined. "I love you too."


End file.
